My Brother's a What?
by billi-rse
Summary: What if Isaac Lahey had a sister?...Well, now he does! Annabeth Lahey was ten years old when her brother was turned into a werewolf and these are the events that follow... I know the summery sucks, but I promise the story is better if you give it a read.


This was written for my Creative Writing class for my 4th quarter project...soooooooo

Set during Season 2 Episode 2

* * *

It all happened so fast, it all just blurred together. First it was just a question, then it was a hesitation and before she knew it, things were flying through the air and a chair was overturned. Footfalls thudded against the old home as they fled to the front door. "Isaac!" a voice called as its owner's feet followed its pry.

A young girl that was no more than ten thought to herself,_ What if this time he takes it too far? What if he really hurts Isaac? _

With that firmly in mind, she soon found herself on the phone with the local police department, praying that consequence of her call didn't backlash on her or her brother.

"911, what is your emergency?" the dispatch woman asked after the phone rang twice.

"I – I think my dad's going to kill my brother…" the girl told the woman in a quiet voice, caked with fear

"Are your father and brother with you right now, miss?"

"No. Isaac ran out of the house and my dad went after him in the car."

"All right, I'm going to send the sheriff, but I need to know where you are, okay?"

The girl stammered her address and was told that the sheriff was on his way before the woman hung up on her. The girl placed the phone back in its proper place; she was scared that her father would return home soon and know what she had done. Not knowing what to do now, she went into the den and watched from the bay windows for any sign of the sheriff or her father.

What seemed like hours only turned out to be a handful of minutes before a couple police cruisers pulled up outside her home. It had started to rain at that point.

The sheriff ran up to the house, trying his hardest not to get wet. He, followed by some deputies, ran through the door and was greeted with the sight of the girl sitting on the couch, her knees to her chest. The sheriff came over to the girl and squatted down in front of her.

"Hello, honey. I'm John Stilinski. Can you tell me your name?" His voice was gentle and soft as not to startle her.

"Annabeth Lahey," she told him, her voice barely a whisper.

Sheriff Stilinski smiled at her. "How old are you, Annabeth?"

Annabeth pulled her hands away from her knees and held up all ten fingers to show him.

The sheriff glanced behind him to the kitchen where his deputies were taking photos of the mess. "Can you tell me what happened here, Annabeth?"

Annabeth was quiet for a moment, the tense scene that had occurred replaying in her mind. She remembered how her brother had stiffened when he was asked how his grades where, how his blue-green eyes darted between her, their father, and his food before he mumbled his grades. Everything seemed to go downhill from there.

"Dad asked what Isaac's grades were," Annabeth told the sheriff. "Isaac didn't want to tell him he was averaging a D in chemistry. Dad said he had to find a way to punish Isaac, so he said Isaac had to clean up after dinner." A tear ran down her face and her breathing came out in short gasps. "He started throwing everything off the table. I hid under the table, hoping to avoid getting hurt. The next thing I know, there's the sound of shattering glass against the wall and Isaac accusing dad that he could have blinded him and he's running out of the house and dad running out after him!"

The sheriff slowly wound his arms around the girl and held her as she cried.

After a few minutes, the sheriff pulled away from the girl before helping her off the couch. He called over one of his deputies and told him to take Annabeth back to the sheriff's house.

"Tell my son he needs to look after this young lady and that there will be a guard posted outside the house. Then I want you to put out an APB for Isaac Lahey and his father. Mr. Lahey is to be considered dangerous and his son should be taken straight to me," the sheriff ordered.

The man nodded and carefully led Annabeth to her room to pack a bag for herself. She put some clothes in an old backpack. When she was done, she followed the nice officer out to his cruiser and watched as the rain pounded down on the windshield. She barely noticed that she and her bag were soaked.

It only took a few minutes for them to arrive at the sheriffs' home; at least, Annabeth assumed it was the Sheriffs home. The deputy quickly got out of the drivers seat, took an umbrella out of the trunk and proceeded to open the passenger side door. Underneath the shelter from the downpour, they walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell.

There were a lot of loud noises that followed the doorbell, but it didn't take long for the front door to be opened.

"Stiles," the deputy greeted with a nod. "Your father sent me over with Miss Lahey and told me to have you put her up in the spare bedroom for the night and to keep an eye on her. I'll be out here until the sheriff gets home."

The teen that opened the door, Stiles, nodded and gestured for the girl to enter. With small, tentative steps she walked through the door into the warm, dry house. Instantly Annabeth started to shiver, not used to the overwhelming warmth that penetrated her soaked clothing and ice cold skin. Behind her, Stiles closed the door before running down the hall and opening a side door.

Annabeth just stood awkwardly in the front hall as Stiles took out a large, fluffy towel from the closet and walked back to her, draping the fluffy material over her shoulders.

"So, um," Stiles stumbled. "I'll show you to your room. It's just up the stairs…so…"

Stiles quickly walked up the stairs two at a time with Annabeth slowly making her way after the socially awkward hyperactive teen. Upon stepping onto the second floor landing, Annabeth's eyes widened with fear when she could not spot the boy. Her fear soon subsided when the teen stepped out of an open doorway and gestured for her to go to him.

Inside the room, Annabeth noticed that everything look untouched. The twin side bed that sat in the center of the room did not have any of the normal wear a regularly used mattress would. The desk stood empty at the side of the room next to the tall dresser that looked like it could use a makeover. There was a thin layer of dust that coated the bookshelf that was up against the wall opposite the desk and dresser.

"It's not much, but it has all the basic necessities that any bedroom needs. Except cloths in the dresser or a computer on the desk or books on the shelves or a person to appreciate the solidarity that is their own bedroom…" Stiles rambled on. He seemed to do that a lot.

Annabeth looked up at the boy as if seeing him for the first time. As the he kept rambling away to chase the silence out, Annabeth took in his features. His hair was buzzed short, like he was ready to go into the military or like he was sick. His eyes, when Annabeth was able to get a good look at them, were a honey brown that reminded the girl of melted chocolate. There was a mole on the left side of his face right by his lips that just seemed to complete the beauty of his face along with other dark beauty marks that made him even more handsome.

Looking away from Stiles with a slight blush, Annabeth took one last look at the room.

"I love it," she said, breaking his monologue. "I've never had my own room…or my own bed…"

She had shared a twin sized bed with her brother, who was just over six feet tall. He was a beanpole, but sharing a bed with a tall beanpole for six years tended to make you appreciate anything when given the chance to have your own space to spread your wings.

Stiles shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what to say. That had to be a first. "Um. I can lend you some clothes for now so I can throw yours in the dryer. They must be soaked."

Quickly, Stiles left the room and ran back in with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Awkwardly, he handed them to the ten year old girl and backed out of the room slowly, throwing his thumb up to point behind him and said, "I'll…just be…out here."

The door closed after him and slowly, Annabeth peeled off her clothing, layer by layer. With the overly fluffy towel, she dried her body and her hair before putting on the clothes she was offered. She bunched up the wet clothing in one hand and held her backpack in the other. When she opened the door, she found Stiles standing next to the door, fidgeting.

He nervously took the soaping articles of cloth and damp backpack from her and bolted down the stairs. Within seconds, Annabeth heard what sounded like the dryer starting up.

Stiles came up the stairs again and stopped awkwardly down the hall at another door. His eyes were drawn to her arms for a moment before he moved them away and told her, "If you need anything during the night, my room is right here. Dad should be home in a few hours. He usually leaves for work around seven, and I'm sure he'll want you to be at the station with him tomorrow."

With that, Stiles walked into his room and closed the door behind him. Annabeth followed his lead and closed the door to her room. Unconsciously, she wrapped her right arm around her middle to hold her left elbow, wincing slightly at one of the many bruises there.

All through the night her dreams were plagued with her father and that damn meat freezer in the basement. Her father would advance on her, his hand raised as if to hit her, but Isaac would suddenly appear and take the brunt of the hit, his body bumping into hers as the momentum of the strike pushed him backward somewhat.

By five the next morning, Annabeth was awake and showered in the attached bathroom of the guest bedroom. Her clothes were folded neatly on the desk chair and her backpack leaning against it. She dressed in her usual dark long sleeved shirt and jeans.

In the kitchen, she sat with a water bottle in front of her. Once in a while she would sip from it, and it wasn't until she heard noise from above her around six-twenty did she panic. She was in a stranger's home, drinking from a water bottle from the stranger's refrigerator that was more than likely bought with the stranger's money. Was she allowed to have it? Probably not.

Annabeth didn't have much time to dread on the subject as Sheriff Stilinski walked into the kitchen in his sheriff's uniform. He walked over to the coffee machine to make himself a cup, glancing at the girl as she just stared at him with wide eyes, trying hard not to eye the gun that hung off his waist.

"Would you like anything to eat, Annabeth?" he asked her. "I'm sure I can whip up some eggs if you want, or a bowl of cereal."

Annabeth gulped. "I'm fine, sir. I'm sorry I took a water from your fridge without permission."

The girl figured if she was going to get in trouble for taking something from the sheriff, she might as well admit it and say sorry. Maybe he wouldn't be too mad then.

He waved it off. "It's no trouble. I can get you a glass of juice if you want."

Annabeth shook her head. She didn't want to be a burden to the nice man.

The sheriff sighed. "We better be heading to the station now. Stiles has school soon and you'll be safer in a building full of police officers."

Annabeth followed the sheriff out to his car after he yelled up the stairs for his son to "get his lazy butt out of bed and ready for school," and was surprised to find an apple up in her lap after she buckled her seatbelt.

At the station, the sheriff left her in the recreation/break room, where she sat at a table and given a few coloring books and crayons. That kept her preoccupied for about half an hour before she got bored and went in search for the sheriff.

Slowly, Annabeth walked down the endless amount of hallways, her head down and her hair in front of her face. She stopped outside an office when she heard the sheriff talking to one of his deputies.

"Are you sure?" the sheriff asked.

"Yes sir," the deputy answered. "The school called this morning to inform us that Isaac Lahey was in his homeroom class this morning."

The sheriff sighed. He seemed to do that a lot, Annabeth noticed. "All right, after school, we pick him up and bring him back here to be with his sister. Any word on the father?"

"No, sir. We have every officer on high alert. Everyone has his description and his license plate number. Rodriguez just took over for Sanderson on watching the home, so if he goes back there, we'll be the first to know."

Annabeth stepped around the corner, not wanting to hear a conversation about her father. She walked into the room fiddling with the ends of her sleeves. "Is Isaac all right?"

The sheriff looked at the girl before nodding to the deputy, who took his leave. The sheriff motioned for Annabeth to take a seat in the chair across from him.

"It seems that your brother is fine. He's at school at the moment and we have the school officials on high alert to make sure your father doesn't go near Isaac. After school, we'll go and bring him here so the two of you are safe."

Annabeth nodded. "Can we go see him at practice? The lacrosse team practices every day at lunch and after school! Can we watch him before we bring him back? I've never seen him play lacrosse before; dad wouldn't let me out of the house besides for school."

The sheriff smiled and nodded. "That's not a bad idea. You know, my Stiles is on the lacrosse team, too. He more sits on the bench then plays, but he's still on the team. It would be a nice change to see him practice with the team than warm the bench, don't you think?"

Annabeth smiled and laughed lightly. It was fun talking to the sheriff, Annabeth decided. He was nice and always seemed to try to get her to smile. The only other person that tried to get her to smile was her brother, and right now they were separated by the constant threat of their father finding them and the distance between the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department and the high school.

Deciding to let the Sheriff get back to work, Annabeth went back to the recreation room and continued to draw in the coloring books. For the first time in she didn't know how long, Annabeth Lahey felt like a normal ten year old, coloring outside the lines and being overly ridiculous. Once and a while, she would giggle at the outlandish coloring of the dog or cat she just did.

It was later in the day and the station had been oddly quite for at least two hours when Annabeth went out in search of the sheriff again. This time, she had just stepped inside the sheriff's office when she overheard the news.

"The scene was a mess. There wasn't an inch of the vehicle that wasn't covered in blood. The driver's side door had been ripped clear off. One of his arms was missing and found in the back seat. His heart was also ripped out and shoved in the guys' mouth. I'm telling you, I'm going to have nightmares for a month," a deputy told the sheriff, his face an off-green color.

"How did we find this again?" the sheriff asked, typing away on his computer.

"An old lady was walking pass the ally when she saw the car was still on. She walked right up to it and just screamed. Someone nearby called 911. When we got to scene, another deputy noticed Lahey's plates on the car." The deputy brought a hand up to wipe away some moisture on his brow. "I know that Lahey was a piece of work – the guy beat his kids senseless nearly every day, for crying out loud! – but no one deserves what happened to him."

The sheriff hummed noncommittally before sighing. "The only person with motive would be the kid, Isaac, but I don't see that boy as a murderer. It looks like we'll have to ring him in for questioning."

Annabeth gasped, her hands flying to her mouth and her eyes wide with fear.

The sheriff turned to the doorway and sighed. "Annabeth, you weren't supposed to hear that."

Still, she just stood there, her hands over her mouth. She was in shock. It wasn't that her father was dead – no, she was glad the S.O.B was gone. It was that they thought her brother could do such a thing. Isaac wouldn't hurt a fly! And if they arrested him, what would happen to her? She would be put in foster care and no one would want to take care of murderer's sister in fear for their life! The entirety of her possible future flashed before her eyes and it made her want to weep with sorrow.

As Annabeth over analyzed what would become of her, a few words that passed between the sheriff and his deputy made it into her mind, but she ignored them until it was mentioned that they would have to go down to the high school to pick him up – and not for the reason they originally intended.

"I want to go with you!" Annabeth nearly shouted as the sheriff and his deputy tried to pass her out of the office.

"Annabeth, I don't think –" the sheriff sighed.

"I want to go with you," she stated, much quieter this time. There were tears in her eyes as she went on, "I want to see my brother. I need to see Isaac. He's all I have; he's all I ever had. Please."

Again, the sheriff sighed. He really did that a lot, Annabeth was beginning to realize which was just a regular sigh and which was a sigh of defeat. This one was defiantly one in defeat.

Annabeth soon in the backseat of the sheriff's patrol car as they made their way to Beacon Hill High. She had never been to the high school before since she was still in elementary school. She always pictured it to be like a grand castle on top of a hill, protecting all that entered. When they got there, her dreams where crushed into tiny bite sized pieces.

The school was just a normal building on top on a slight hill surrounded by the forest that seemed to encase the entire town. There was nothing fancy about the place, except for maybe the Porsche that was parked next to the bike rack.

They parked as close as they could to the fields just to the side of the school where it looked like the lacrosse team was practicing during lunch. The sheriff kept his hand on Annabeth's shoulder to keep her from running of toward her brother.

As they walked closer to the field, Annabeth saw whoever was in the goal run and smash into the player coming at him. It looked like it hurt. After the goalie got back to his position and a whistle was blown after some yelling, the goalie ran out again and into the next player.

Now, Annabeth didn't know much about lacrosse, or anything at all about the sport, but she knew goalies weren't supposed to do that.

Annabeth watched as someone walked away from the line of players, not wanting to be shamed into the ground most likely, and the person behind him step up. As the whistle was blown once more, the boy ran at the goalie with such power that they went flying in the air. She noticed the number on the back of the boy's jersey was the same as her brother's.

Maneuvering herself away from the sheriff's grip, Annabeth ran toward the two boys that where down on the field calling out her brother's name with tears in her eyes.

Isaac got off the ground and was bombarded with the force of a ten year old wrapping her arms around him. He huffed out a laugh.

"Annie, what are you doing here?" Isaac asked, pulling away from the hug to look at his sister. "Are you all right?"

"I missed you, Isaac," Annabeth smiled. "Don't leave me again. Please, don't."

Isaac wrapped his arms around her once more. "I promise."

The sheriff cleared his throat behind him. Isaac turned around, Annabeth still in his arms. "Can we talk to you, son?"

Isaac looked up at the two deputies behind him and nodded. They walked to the opposite side of the field with the coach to talk. Annabeth kept herself at Isaac's side the entire time, holding him like he would disappear.

The sheriff informed the teen of what happened after he had run out of his house the night before and that their father was found dead and that is was obviously murder. They led Isaac back into the school and to the boy's locker room so he could change out of his uniform. The sheriff had to pry Annabeth off her brother for him to go in to change. Afterward, the sheriff led them back to the patrol cars, cuffed Isaac and put in the backseat. Annabeth ran around to the other side of the car and got in the back with her brother, where she then re-attached herself to him, ignoring the sheriff and one of his men as they walked back up to the school.

"I missed you Isaac," she whispered. "I was so scared. I thought dad was going to kill you."

"I'm all right now, Annie." He smiled down at her, but it was strained. "I was worried about you the whole night. I wish I was with you. I didn't know if dad went back to the house after I lost him. I didn't know what happened to you."

"I stayed at the sheriff's house!" she told him happily. "He's really nice. He tried to get me to smile all the time. I wish our dad was like him."

Isaac nodded and grunted.

Annabeth barely noted as the sheriff entered the car and started to drive away.

Time seemed to fly after they arrived back at the station. Isaac was put into the one holding cell that was rarely used because it was reserved for murder suspects and other violent offender. Annabeth nearly threw a fit at being separated from her brother, but Isaac just knelt down to be eye to eye with her and said everything would be fine. The sheriff had to escort the teary eyed girl from the cell room and down to his office where he placed her on the sofa that was up against one of the walls. He pulled an old throw over her and let her drift off.

Ever since, Annabeth was asleep. A loud bang woke her from her slumber. Quickly, the girl ran to the sheriff's desk and hid under it. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her labored breathing as someone limped into the room and opened the safe by the wall. A few moments later there was a sound of rattling keys and the person limped out of the office. Not long after did another person rush to the safe, only to find the keypad broken. The person whispered "Oh, no…" before rushing back out.

Annabeth crawled out from under the desk in time to see the Stiles running out of the room. In a quick moment of bad judgment, Annabeth followed the teen out of the office and down the hall. As she was about to turn a corner she heard Stiles' voice and she stopped.

"Oh, um…Just lookin' for, um," Stiles fumbled to say. There was a moment of silence and then, "Oh, shhii –"

There was a scuffle and the sound of someone being dragged down the hall while fighting for their freedom.

Just as Annabeth turned the corner, she saw Stiles being dragged by a man dressed as a deputy down the hall, a hypodermic needle held to his neck. In Stiles' fumbling to get away from the man, he pulled the fire alarm, setting off a high pitched sound.

Surprised, Annabeth followed the man and Stiles into the holding room, just in time to see the man drop Stiles to the ground.

Annabeth looked for her brother in his cell and found it empty, the door half off its hinges.

Suddenly, the man was attacked by a snarling man/beast. Annabeth screamed as the sudden attack, not noticing Stiles scrambled behind the desk. She watched with fearful eyes as the man/beast slammed the deputy's head against the wall, knocking him out.

Someone pushed passed Annabeth, firmly stepping on the forgotten hypodermic needle, crushing it with a sense of finality.

Annabeth looked up at the man/beast to see it was her brother, his face distorted, his eyes bright yellow and his teeth elongated with menacing canines. She was frozen with shock and terror.

Her brother – her amazing brother, the only one that ever really took care of her – was a monster.

Isaac advanced and turned his attention to Stiles, who tried his hardest to melt into the wall to get away from the thing approaching him. Before he could take a step, though, the man who had pushed past her roared at Isaac, his eyes bright red and his teeth just like her brothers.

Isaac threw himself against the wall near the deputy, shaking with fear of the man who roared at him. When he turned his face back, it was normal. Annabeth noticed he was drenched in sweat and his eyes were filled with dread. She knew that feeling all too well.

"How did you do that?" Stiles asked the man.

The man turned to Isaac and said, "I'm the Alpha," as if it meant a great deal.

After Isaac was able to get a hold of himself he got off the floor and took a hesitant step toward his sister. Annabeth squeaked in fear and ran to Stiles, bearing her head in his chest. She heard Isaac stifle a pained sigh before he and the man turned to leave.

"We've got to get up, Annabeth," Stiles nudged her. "Come on, up we go."

Annabeth slowly got to her feet, holding onto Stiles even as he walked into the center of the room to survey the damage done.

Suddenly the fire alarm cut off and the sheriff walked into the room, followed by a few deputies. He never seemed to go anywhere without one or two at his side, Annabeth reflected as the man raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Uh…He did it," Stiles accused, pointing a finger at the man lying on the floor after looking back at the empty cell behind him.

The sheriff hummed noncommittally before pointing for Stiles to leave. "And take Annabeth with you."

Stiles led Annabeth to his beat up baby blue jeep and drove them back to his place. Upon arrival, Annabeth wouldn't leave the teen's side forcing him to sigh and awkwardly lead her to his room.

Annabeth let out a scream as she saw her brother and the man in Stiles' room. Stile backtracked himself, letting out an "Oh my God" before pushing Annabeth behind him.

"I don't think you should be here," Stiles informed the intruders after he gained some composure.

"I came to talk to my sister," Isaac said, stepping forward a bit. The other man just rolled his eyes and took a seat at Stiles' desk chair. Annabeth cringed away from the movement, grabbing hold of the back of Stiles' shirt. Suddenly she was reminded of a time where it was once Isaac she stood behind, clutching at his shirt as she cringed away from their father.

"Obviously, she doesn't want to talk to you," Stiles retorted.

Isaac sighed in wounded defeat, and Annabeth's heart sunk knowing she caused her brother pain. "I just…I want to explain to her…tell her why I chose to accept the bite. I just want my sister. I need to talk to her. She's all I have; she's all I ever had. Please."

Again, Annabeth was reminded of what she told the sheriff earlier in the day so she could see her brother.

Monster or no monster, Isaac was still her brother and they were all they had in the world. It was her responsibility to talk to her brother and resolve whatever issues they had, otherwise they had no one left. With that firmly in mind, Annabeth tentatively stepped out from behind Stiles to look at her brother. She nodded at him and slowly walked to Stiles' bed to sit down.

"Annie," Isaac whispered as he sat next to her, not close enough to touch, but far enough away to give her some space. "You are all I have left in the world, and I need you to understand that I did this to protect you."

"Did you kill dad?" she quietly asked.

"No," he replied. "No matter how much I hated the man, I would never kill him."

"What are you?"

Isaac sighed. "Derek." he motioned to the other man in the room. "He offered me something that would help me protect you and the night I ran off, dad saw. Derek said that this gift he could give me would make me stronger and faster and heal quicker, but it does come with a price, but I took it anyway because I love you, Annie. I love you and I would give up everything to make sure you were happy and safe. So Derek bit me and I turned. What dad saw was me healing from a cut on my face and I was so afraid that he would try to beat me just to see it again."

There was silence one more before Annabeth repeated, "What are you?"

"Werewolf," Stiles supplied. "Your brother's a werewolf and Derek's his Alpha."

The silence that followed crackled with tension as they all watched for some sort of reaction of the ten year old girl.

"My brother's a what?"

The End…

Or Is It…?


End file.
